Thursday, December 13, 2007

Busy--Going to Be Out of Town

Hey. I'm in the middle of the last part of interviewing, which means I'm crazy busy. I'm trying to get transcriptions of the interviews I've already recorded, translate the transcriptions, and talk to the last few people I need to in order to get the fullest pictuer possible of what is happening here.

I'll be in Yssyk Kol this weekend for a few more interviews. I go down to the southern provinces on the 24th of December. I plan to get about 20 interviews in Osh, Jalalabad and Isfana over a 10-day period or so. I'm not sure how long I'll be down there. It all depends on how quicky I can get the interviews. I have to take into account that I will be there over New Years, which means the majority of people will be drunk (and therefore un-interviewable) for a 5-6 day window.

I'll try to post something next week, but I cant' make any promises. Then I'll be off the map for two weeks or so. I'll start posting regularly again in January.

Happy Holidays!

Wednesday, December 5, 2007

Election Time

Kyrgyzstan had a popular referendum about a month ago to revise its constitution. I talked to several independent observers who said there were a lot of irregularities and that the voter turnout was pretty low. In fact, I heard the following joke the day after the referendum:

An electoral official goes to his boss and says, “The results of the referendum are in. Eighty-one percent of the population voted.” His boss gets really angry and says, “What are you talking about? We agreed that the number would be 80 percent! Why did you change it?” The official apologized, “It’s just that one percent of the population actually came. We thought we ought to count them.”

Parliamentary elections are coming up December 16th. Maybe I’m an eternal optimist, but I have greater hopes for these elections than for the referendum. During the Akayev administration (President Askar Akayev was ousted in March 2005), there was really widespread corruption in the legislature. People were basically installed in those positions instead of being elected to them. Most of those people are still in those positions. I think (I hope) that will change in a couple weeks. There are now over 100 political parties in Kyrgyzstan, and that’s growing every day. That much competition means there is a much better chance that people are going to have to form coalitions after they get elected, which means it will be harder to push through bad legislation or to just not do anything.

That is, assuming, that the larger parties just don’t buy up people’s votes this time around. They’ve done that in the past.

Close to Finishing the Interviews

I have to apologize for just putting up other peoples words on the blog lately. I know that is interesting—probably much more interesting that what I have to say—I did promise that I would try to talk about all of the aspects of my fieldwork.

The interview phase of my fieldwork is coming to a close. Right now, I’m in the middle of translating the interviews I have already taken. I’ve recorded 39 interviews so far, and I have at least three more scheduled for this week so far. Interviewing is an interesting thing. You never know how many interviews you’re going to need. I started out estimating that I would need about 100. That moved down to 70 shortly after I got here. Now, I’m thinking between 50 and 60. What you do with interviews is make a list of different topics that you want to understand. When you start interviewing a person, you start with the first topic and ask him or her everything you can about that. When that person has said everything he or she can about that topic, you move onto the next topic that that particular person will be likely to know something about. In an average interview (about 1 to 1 ½ hours long), you cover three or four topics.

After a number of interviews—you can never be sure how many—the first topics on your list get full. New people stop giving you any new information. That’s when you know you’ve probably filled in your understanding of that topic enough to stop asking about it. Then you move onto the topics that people are still saying interesting things about, or to topics you haven’t covered yet. In fact, as you interview people, they will mention a lot of things you never thought of. Those will become new topics to ask about. You just stick them at the end of your list.

My list is now about gone. I stopped getting new information about people’s everyday lives over a month ago. I stopped getting new information about groups like religion, ethnicity, and country about a week or so ago. I’m now just trying to understand social participation: no matter what religion you belong to, why do you decide to give your time, effort, and/or money to it? Why do people decide to sacrifice for their country? Engage in a protest? Become independent observers for an election? The new material for those questions is starting to get slim. Comparatively speaking. I’m still getting a lot of new information, but not as much as I got in the beginning.

I’m going down to the southern provinces of the country (Osh, Jalalabad, and Batken) at the end of this month. I plan on getting about 20 more interviews while I am there, and most of those are going to be with people who are socially active. I think that will finish my interviewing needs.

My next phase is to create a survey based on the information from the interviews. I don’t even want to think about that until I at least have all of my interviews translated.

In Their Own Words: Islam in Kyrgyzstan

This is the Uzbek student again. He takes his religious very seriously. He actually gave better explanations of Islamic doctrines than anyone else I have talked to so far. He feels that there is a big problem with Islam in Kyrgyzstan.

What’s the problem? Islam here in Kyrgyzstan…we [the younger generation] didn’t grow up in the Soviet times. Our parents lived in it for 70 years. The regime was atheistic. They were categorically opposed to any religion. It was all communism. When they achieved independence—the USSR fell apart, so they got independence whether they wanted it or not—Turkey set up an embassy here and other countries too. That’s when Islam started to grow in Kyrgyzstan. But the problem is we have a lot of stereotypes—misinformation about Islam. People aren’t ready…that’s a really big problem right now. Even if you were to go to an imam right now and want to learn about Islam, he’s not going to start with the ABC’s. He start with, “Don’t do this, don’t do that…don’t smoke, don’t drink.” It’s fine to do that, but a person should start with the basics. People here haven’t even held a Bible in their hands, for example. If you ask if they’ve ever even held a Bible, they tell you no. Or the Torah, for example. We just don’t have a dialogue with other religions. Everyone is the same. So I think we need to change that somehow in Kyrgyzstan.

I pointed out that many Muslims had told me that it was a sin to even hold the Bible in their hands.

Do you understand what they think that? It’s because a lot of imams don’t know much themselves…. That’s not what Islam is about. When people in Kyrgyzstan say that it’s sin even to hold the Bible in your hands, that’s not written anywhere. The Bible, the Torah—we’re all children of Abraham. And religion and all of that—we all have one God. It’s just that Christians interpret the Bible one way, Muslims a different way, Jews a different way. What they say here—that’s just hearsay. If you ask them why, they can’t tell you, because there are no facts in support of it. That’s the problem.

We have another problem in that a lot of people aren’t answerable for what they teach. They say that something is not right, for example, that it’s a sin to drink. Yes, everyone knows that, but why? They can’t answer, because they don’t dig deep into the matter, you see? That’s the problem. Because we…the imam says don’t do that, it’s a sin, but we don’t ask why. We don’t ask them to explain in more detail.

The thing that interests me about Islam is why I am a Muslim. It’s not because my parents are Muslims or because someone affected me. It’s because you can find an answer to any question in Islam. What do we do first? If we have a question, we look in the Qur’an. If we can’t find it in the Qur’an, we go to the hadith [the sayings of the prophet]. As long as you take the earlier forms of the hadith. And then after that the 3rd step is…I forget what it’s called in Arabic…it’s like consensus. Scholars gather and they issue a fatwa. A lot of people don’t know who any of those scholars are. They don’t know why we look at what they said and not at what others have said. Why do we do that? Because some contradict themselves and others have been accepted by the whole world. We have a problem when it comes to sources. A lot of people don’t check their sources. For example, if you go to the mosque here, there’s a lot of book stores. A lot the books have a Tashkent copyright. A lot of people who really understand Islam, they don’t read those books, because Tashkent books are unreliable sources. Karimov’s regime [in Uzbekistan] and a lot of imams in general distort information.

So we have that specific problem right now. Another problem is that we aren’t even on the first step and those people [the reliable sources] are already on the 10th or 20th floor, so we can’t understand them. The first step is the creed—the foundational principles. Who is Allah, what are his qualities, why are we Muslims? What is the confession of faith? [“There is no deity except Allah alone, and Muhammad is his messenger.” Saying this is the first, and technically the only, thing that one must do to become a Muslim.] What is that? We don’t understand anything, but we already know what’s forbidden and what’s not. Why is that? Those are very difficult questions with difficult answers. That’s why a lot of people… I talked to a lot of Imams. I asked them if there was any place in Kyrgyzstan where I could find the foundational principles—specifically the foundation stuff. They don’t know, because a lot of Imams can beautifully explain things, but they get mixed up when it comes to basic things. There are a lot of different interpretations of the Qur’an here.

In Their Own Words: Islam and America

This person gave perhaps the best interview I have taken so far. He is an Uzbek from the southern city of Osh. He is now a university student at AUCA. He studied for a year in America. The following is about his experience in California—especially his experience regarding people’s attitudes towards Islam.

In the beginning I was in the southern part of California, because my classes were supposed to start September 27 but we got there on August 14th. I spent a week in Washington, then we went to southern California. It was really hard for me there—culture shock, first time in America. That’s understandable. Well, I was interested in going to a mosque, but my host wouldn’t let me go. As you know, there’s a problem with transportation in America. Especially in California [you need a car to get anywhere]. I didn’t even know that I could…the town I was in isn’t a big town, but because of the lack of transportation, I had a problem. My host parents refused to take me to a mosque. I asked if I could just go once, just to see the architecture, see American Muslims. They said September 11th was coming up and they didn’t want there to be any conflicts. They said maybe they’d take me later. I was in shock. I said, “This is America—that land of the free. Why would there be a conflict if you take me there? It seems that’s actually a good thing. You’re showing me how Muslims in America live.” They categorically refused. I said, “Welcome to America.”

I thought I wouldn’t be able to go to a mosque for the whole year. I was really disappointed. But then I went to the North. East Bay is in the bay area. I fell in love with it. That place isn’t similar to any other place in America. I told a lot of Americans about that region and they said I was lucky that I lived there, not because there are a lot of Muslims, but because the people there are different. If you compare north and south California, the north has more Democrats. The south has more Republicans. They think differently about a lot of things. In the north, it was still hard for me for about a month after I arrived. There were classes, a new location, the credit system. Some time in October, during the month of Ramadan, I started to keep the fast. I didn’t know that the university had a Muslim Student Association. It turns out there’s one in every university. I didn’t know, I just fasted. I didn’t know anyone else who was. We have a tradition that when you break your fast, you do that with your friends. They [the other Muslim students] did that on campus in the student union building. There was only about a week of Ramadan left when I happened to meet some guys that were also fasting and one of them was the president of MSA. They told me to come to the union building. I came and there were a lot of Muslims there. I hadn’t known.

After that my life started to get totally better. My life was perfect from October to June. I went to a lot of mosques. When I had been in southern California, I thought that after 9/11 there was now a lot of discrimination against Muslims, like after Pearl Harbor with the Japanese in California. I thought it was the same thing with Muslims, not at the same level, but that there was some indirect discrimination going on. When I came to the north I really saw that any religion is welcomed. You have freedom of choice. Life in America changed me, in that I became more aware, and in relation to my religion…the Islam I found in America was more real than the Islam here in Kyrgyzstan.

In Their Own Words: Why People Engage in Corruption

This is a student in Bishkek. He’s from Batken, the southernmost—as the poorest—of Kyrgyzstan’s seven provinces. We got to talking about corruption. Nearly everyone I have talked to here says that people in general, and especially government leaders, are corrupt. It’s just a widespread assumption that people take bribes, get their relatives and other supporters into powerful positions, and generally act dishonestly. This student was unusually honest about how he, personally, relates to all of that.

I want to be honest, fair, but that’s going to be hard, I think. I could be lying to myself. I’m afraid I’m lying, that I’m saying right now that I’m going to be honest and fair, but then some situation will come up where I’ll have to lie a little or…but I’m going to try not to do that, because…I don’t know. I just that people—and maybe I don’t understand the ins and outs of it—but if I understood, maybe I’d talk different. Maybe I’d say that I could do this little dishonest thing and get a lot of money from it. I just know a lot of people who say if you do certain things you can make a lot of money—through corruption or something else—you can do that. I’m afraid with time I will change. People always change in the face of other people’s influence. First of all they see the opportunity to make some money. It pulls them, attracts them. They make an excuse, “Ok, I’ll do it this time, but not any more.” And then, the gradually come to like it. Then they have some kind of need. They want to fulfill that need, but they can only do it that way [through corruption]. These are obvious things. They’re everywhere. Honestly I’m afraid. You become more aware of things, maybe I’ll have some things I really need. I don’t know, I don’t want it to be that way. I’d like to have enough without that. I’m just afraid that if I don’t have enough of something, I’ll start looking for a way to…I can’t say I won’t look for way, if they offer to…I don’t know. One side says take it. The other side says “No, stop.” I’d make myself feel better by saying, “Oh, but look how many other people do it. I’ll do it too.” That’s how you feel when you go along with the majority—that’s how it is with corruption—a lot of people are doing it. How are they going to find out about me? I’m not alone. There are hundreds of people doing it.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

In Their Own Words: Religion and Ethnicity

This is the girl from the last post--the one who converted to Islam. Here, she talks about how people view religion and race, and how they often mean the same things in people's minds.


When people find out I am a Muslim, they don’t understand it. Right away they…as if…“how could you accept it? You’re not part of that religion.” For them, to be Muslim means to be Asia—that is, your physical appearance should look Muslim. For a lot of people that’s a really strong stereotype. One time I went to the bazaar and bought some clothes. The vendor was Kyrgyz and his nephew was standing there—he was probably my age. I had little Muslim pendant on. He looked. I live here, so I naturally understand Kyrgyz. He says, “Look, the Russian is wearing a Muslim pendant.” His first thought was that I was some unconscionable Russian that was wearing a Muslim pendant. His uncle hit him and said, “Get out of here.” He understood that I understood, and apologized. I said don’t worry about it. I called the nephew over and said, “I’m a Muslim. Don’t think that I wear this pendant just as some kind of jewelry.” He said he thought I didn’t know what it meant. I said he should just assume things like that about people. I talked to him a little about it. A few people think things like that and they want to say it. Some do say it. And I often don’t wear that pendant. On public transportation people often see it and think its so out of the ordinary and strange. It’s hard for me. I can’t say anything to them. I walk up to every other person on the street and say, “I’m a Muslim…I’m a Muslim…Don’t stare at me…Don’t stare at me…” It’s hard to say that to everyone. You walk around and think, “Do I need to make a sign that says I’m a Muslim? Leave me alone.” But, you know, it would be hard for me to live either way. On one hand I feel on the inside that I am a Muslim, but on the other hand to be a Christian so people just calmed down and looked at me like any other Russian girl—I can’t do that either. But to walk around in a headscarf or hijab…although like I already said that’s not a problem for me. I’m a Muslim. I can do that. But to have everyone point their fingers…it’s hard.

In their Own Words: Islam, Conversion, and Ethnicity

This is a long entry, but I think it's worth it. This is a Russian university student who converted to Islam. She also married an Uzbek who is a devout Muslim. She talks about some of the challenges she has faced because of her decision to convert. Oh, and she's only 18 years old. Notice that a lot of her challenges come from her nationality. People have made her decision difficult for her because she is now Muslim and Russian. I've noticed this a lot. Many people say that being Kyrgyz and being Muslim are the same thing. If you are one, then you are supposed to be the other.


First of all, my socialization took place in a Muslim society. In our country the religion is Muslim. I was born here and grew up in this environment, and in general I only interacted with Muslim children. Throughout my childhood while growing up I didn’t know a single Russian tradition. Although my passport says I’m Russian, my father was a Tatar and my mother was Greek. I didn’t know Russian traditions at all. More than anything I learned about Muslim traditions. So I grew up in that kind of space. It is easier for me to understand this culture than the one that really relates to me. In time, I started to understand that it was a lot easier for me to live in this religion than in the Christian religion.

But that’s just one reason why I converted to Islam. It’s easier for me to live in this Muslim society and keep Muslim traditions. Second, I married an Uzbek. For the present time, things have worked out that I needed to accept Islam. Well, it didn’t just work out that way…I decided for myself. I accepted Islam for him. But the problem is, he’s from Osh. Muslim traditions in Bishkek are very different from those in Osh. Here, people are more loyal—they deal with things more liberally, more simply. A Russian girl and an Uzbek guy are normal here. But there it’s different. There, the traditions are kept very strictly. Wavering from the traditions is like death. His parents have been tormenting us for two years. They don’t want to accept me. They don’t care that I’ve accepted Islam, or that I pray five times a day. It doesn’t mean anything to them. They need a pure-blooded Uzbek girl, no impurities, nothing. That’s the biggest problem. They have very strong prejudices when it comes to Russians. They’ve never interacted with Russians and they have big stereotypes based on what they see on television. To be Russian means you drink a lot.

They haven’t even seen me. They don’t want to. They don’t allow me to come to the door step. They think I’m a girl of easy virtue, because I’m Russian. And no matter what anyone says, it’s all the same…they don’t have any reason, they just think reasons up. They just want to protect the purity of their nation. If you compare Uzbeks who live in Osh with Uzbeks who live in the capital of Uzbekistan, they are completely different people. It’s the same think with Kyrgyz in Bishkek. They try to improve themselves. Here, Kyrgyz try to speak in Russian. But in the villages, they try to keep the traditions more sternly, because that's their way of life. Here people try to improve themselves and strive for more cultural growth. The same thing in the capital of Uzbekistan—they speak in Russian there too. It’s different with the people who live in Osh. They are very religious. That keep their religion so firmly that it just shocks me.

For example, for my husband, religion is a big part of his life. He pays special attention to it. And it’s really a problem because he can’t go against his parents. That respect is important for him. If they say something, that means there’s wisdom in it. Although he knows that they don’t have any particular reasons. That’s the problem. And I didn’t change my religion in the first place just so they would believe me. I converted because…I personally feel better this way. My father was a Tatar and I ought to be a Muslim. During my socialization I realized that that was my culture.

I asked how she met her husband.

That’s a different story. I was studying here as a freshman. We have a free internet here, and I met him over the internet. He studied for a year in Turkey. He was in Turkey and we met here. We corresponded for five months, found common interests. Later, when he flew home to Osh, he came to Bishkek first. There are no flights directly to Osh. We met and started to get to know each other. But I only saw him about five times during two years. He came here two times, I came to Osh two times…just for 2 or three days at a time. That’s how it worked out. In reality, we had some really big problems. We tried to break up, because the moral pressure from his parents was really hard. And it was hard for him because, no matter how much he tried to convince them, no matter how many times he begged, they were against it. His parents still don’t know that we’re married, because it would be a terrible blow for them. But they don’t do anything to even try. They have that one point and that’s it, there no going on from there. He left home, said he was going to Turkey. But he was actually here. We got married, but we hide it. Right now he’s gone home, as if he’s just come back from Turkey. But they…I mean, he called me on his second day there and said, “I don’t fit in here. No one understands me. It’s as if I was a criminal, they keep asking me if I was in Bishkek. I’m public enemy number one. It’s like world war three.” It’s a tragedy for them. I don’t know. Their family isn’t…well he has an older brother too…oh, we can use his older brother as an example. They married him off according to tradition. According to their traditions, the mother goes and chooses a wife and he marries her. That’s how they married off his brother. I wouldn’t say that he’s very happy. Basically, his life isn’t working out for him that well and he’s very cold toward his family. That a resting their hopes on the younger son, on my husband, that he’s act like a true Uzbek and do everything his parents say. Because he respects his parents above anything else, but it won’t do any good for him or his parents. They don’t understand how many people they’re ruining. And not to mention that girl that they would marry him to—that would just be hard. And especially when…I know that they talk about me a lot there. I know they have stereotypes and they can’t get away from them. They don’t want to meet me, they feel that I’m a girl of easy virtue, and that’s it. They don’t want to think any more about it. They lived their whole lives in their religion, in their circle, in those borders. They haven’t ever gone any place—they’ve never seen a different way of life. They feel that, if their ancestors lived like that, then they should live just like they did. My husband for example…none of them has gone anywhere, but he went to Turkey. He wants to make something of his life. Just to sit in the provinces and marry a girl he doesn’t want to marry—that’s a problem. He calls me and says, “I’ve become a foreigner. They don’t understand me here and they don’t even try.” His parents say, “We’re your parents. That means we know what’s best for you.”

I asked her what she would do it his parents suddenly called him and told him that they had found a wife for him.

Oh. I don’t know, to tell you the truth. We’ve tried so many times to break up, but it just didn’t work out. I don’t think it will happen. We’d make it for three months, and that’s it. I would go to him or he would come to me. Personally, I think his mother is going to do that. She’s sick of me being in his life, that I haven’t disappeared. She thinks she’ll find someone and that’s it. She’ll do that, go and personally find a wife for him. I don’t want to ruin anyone’s life either, if he decides that’s best. Right now he’s just torn between me and his parents. And he can’t betray his religious principles of respecting his parents. But just to give up and live like his parents say, to put him in that box…he can’t win either way. But if he decides to marry that other girl, he knows that won’t lead to anything good. It may be easier on his parents, but it won’t be easier for him or that girl.

I asked how she would feel if it happened.

How could I feel? It would be hard, of course. I don’t know. Naturally, it would be a big blow for me. But because of all of these worries I took a break from school last year. I just couldn’t take it, I laid in the hospital with a nervous disorder, with depression. It was just really hard in general. I broke down my health and everything else. My mother loves [my husband] and it was really hard for her too, he’s like another child in the family. I’m her only child and she naturally wants me to be happy, so it was hard. And because of all that my studies aren’t going too well right now, although as a freshman, when I still hadn’t met him, I was a very good student. Now it’s really hard, and the problems are still building up. And this biggest problem is that I tried, through my husband…I said, let me meet your parents, get acquainted. I’m not against that. Maybe I can try to break the stereotypes they have of me. They don’t know me at all. They should understand. They look, and all they see is Russia. Everyone drinks there. First of all, I wasn’t born in Russia. I was born here, I grew up here, I’m a Muslim. For me, those kinds of behaviors that I see in Russian, they aren’t acceptable for me either. But that fact that I’m not really Russian, they don’t care.

I asked if her decision was worth all the problems it had caused.

They all talk that way. People who know me well say that it’s not worth it. Those two years that I went through, everyone said that it’s not worth it. They always say that, “Oh, you’ll find someone better.” That’s even harder to take. Why would I live through two years of this just to give it all up and say, “Oh, well. I’ll throw it all out and start again.” Why did I start it all then? Of course, when I first met my husband, I said, “I know your traditions. It’s going to be hard.” He agreed. But then you see what happened. Now he can’t decide anything—I basically decide everything. I try to do something. The most offensive things was when he left, he had to pretend that he had just come back from Turkey. He literally left on Monday. We had to go buy some gifts. All of fall break I went around and bought gifts for them. I basically bought gifts for people who don’t like me. And then I call and ask, “Did they like the gifts?” “Of course,” he says. I think, yeah, they like the gifts but they don’t like me.

I asked her why she did all of this--went through all of this.

You have to understand, I know how my husband was raised. His parents raised him very well. In fact, they should be proud that they taught him to be such a good person. And if you are a Muslim, and you feel you are a Muslim, you have to keep all the traditions and do not only as you have to, but as you feel. For example, he never goes to mosque just because he is supposed to. He does it from his heart. They raised him very well. I understand his manners, from the way he acts, that they have a very good family. I analyzed all of this, and I don’t have anything I can say against them. Of course, it would be strange for me to suddenly meet them and start a conversation. It’s really hard to convince people of the opposite of what they have been convinced their whole life. If they think that I’m that way, I don’t understand how to change their mind. But I don’t feel anything really bad towards them. For me, if he’s my husband, then they are my relatives. I’m not used to just feeling that way about people. If I don’t know a person, then he’s a stranger to me. I really enjoyed buying them gifts. I imagined how his nephew would like a toy, so I bought it. It was actually really enjoyable for me.

I asked her why she was willing to sacrifice so much for her husband.

Well, I just sacrifice. For me, it’s not entirely a sacrifice. It’s part of my life. I sacrifice in that I know that we won’t get past their prejudices. I don’t know. I do a lot for my husband. I know how hard it is for him. I try to make his life nicer, I try to help him. There’s not a lot of ways I can help, of course, but I try.

And finally, to give you an idea of just how far she would go to be accepted into her husband's family, and just how unwilling they are (and why they are unwilling):

We didn’t solve the problem by getting married. We may not be able to solve one our own, just by asking and trying to convince them. Those feelings aren’t solvable. I was always convinced that you can solve any problem, even if you can just find one way. There is a way, but the only way I’ve found they won’t accept. I’m ready. I told them I wouldn’t ask their son to live away from them, here in Bishkek. I’m wiling to move to Osh and live with them. I’d do anything they want. If they want me to look more Uzbek, I can go to a tanning salon and make my skin darker, I can die my hair black, I can make my eyes look more Uzbek, I can wear a hijab…it doesn’t make a difference to me. The most important thing for me is that they believe me. If it’s important for me to look Uzbek…but the most important thing for them is to not mix the blood. And the problem isn’t just in their family. They’re afraid…they’re all relatives. All of their neighbors are related to them as well. Everyone says that…Uigurs, Uzbeks, they’re all relatives. The opinion of other people who know them is very important. “They’ll lose all respect for us.” It’s not just their stereotype, its belongs to everyone who lives there. In their Mahallah [an administrative region] everyone knows everyone else. They’re afraid if they allow our marriage, everyone is going to judge their family and their decision. New spreads so quickly there. Everyone would know and everyone would remember, point their fingers, judge. And then no one would accept our children there. Even if I take on their entire culture, live with them, sooner or later even my children…if I agree that my daughter also needs to marry an Uzbek, no one would take her. And our family would suffer because of that. Everyone would stop respecting us, because they all have the same opinion. It’s one thing to convince their family, it’s a different thing to convince the entire city. It’s just not right. The problem is that they demand that you live that way and don’t think—don’t even imaging—that they could be another way. I don’t know.

In Their Own Words: How People Know It's the Government 's Fault

People blame a lot of their ills on the government. Here is a college student explaining how she knows that the government is to blame for many of the bad things happening in Kyrgyzstan. Notice that she can't give a clear connection between social ills and government. It's an assumption, not evidence.


Researcher: In your opinion, what do you need in this country to maintain a minimum standard of living?

Informant: In my opinion, you would have to change the government first.

Researcher: Why?

Informant: Because if we had a president like Putin—as far as I’ve noticed, Putin raises teachers’ wages every month, raises the pensions. Here, they say they’re going to raise it, and then they don’t do anything.

Researcher: Why don’t they do it?

Informant: Because they just say that they are going to do it. They take money from other countries, and then say they’re going to give it to the teachers, raise pensions. Then they put it in their own pockets.

Researcher: How do you think this country will change in 10 years?

Informant: I think you need to change the government.

Researcher: Have you always thought that, if things are bad in a country, that it is the government’s fault? How did you come to have that opinion?

Informant: If the government wasn’t as bad as it is, why would recent graduates all go abroad? If the government set good wages, people would stay here. They would improve this country. But, for example, teacher’s, doctors—they have a very low wage. They are all going abroad. I have an aunt who is a pediatrician, she lives in Cokuluk—not far from Bishkek. Last year she went to Almaty to work. The worked there, and then came back. Now she’s getting ready to go again.

Researcher: Do people do that often?

Informant: Yes. Even school teachers often go to Russia to sell things.

In Their Own Words: What it Means to Be Kyrgyz

This girl is a university student in Bishkek. I knew from previous conversations that she only used to speak Russian. She is now studying Kyrgyz more and more. I asked why.

If you look at the very beginning, from my childhood, I went to a Russian kindergarten, but I didn’t know Russian. My natural language was Kyrgyz. Everyone in my family, and all of my friends spoke Kyrgyz. I went to kindergarten and everything was in Russian. They sent me to that kindergarten because they were looking after my future, because people who don’t know Russian can’t get a job, or it gets hard for them later on in school. So they wanted me to learn Russian as a child and sent me to a Russian kindergarten. It was hard at first, but after a while I learned it and went to a Russian school. All of my friends spoke Russian. Maybe it was just the cool thing to do. Everyone spoke Russian, and little but little…I just kind of…I know everyday Kyrgyz well and I can speak fine, but I don’t know the grammar. All of my classes were in Russian and my friends all spoke Russian. And I just kind of as a reflex started speaking Russian at home. I made it all the way to the 11th grade using Russian. At that time, Kyrgyz only existed for me when I went to the villages, talked with my grandparents, and in Kyrgyz classes. But even in classes, if you don’t remember how to say something in Kyrgyz, you just say it in Russian. But then I started to think….I heard someone say that there’s no nation without a language. I’m Kyrgyz, so I ought to know Kyrgyz. Because of that, I started to talk in Kyrgyz more. Even my mom and dad started to say things like, “Don’t you know Kyrgyz?” I said, “If you want, I can talk in Kyrgyz.” I started to talk in Kyrgyz and after two words I changed into Russian. Then I understood that I really needed to work at Kyrgyz. It just seems stupid to me. Even though we have to national languages, it seems to me that we need to know both languages the same—Russian and Kyrgyz. As far as Kyrgyz goes, it’s not fair that I know Russian better. Even more so since I’m Kyrgyz, I ought to know Kyrgyz.

I asked her if it was important to her personally that she is Kyrgyz.

Technically, I’m not entirely Kyrgyz. My mother is part Uzbek, part Kyrgyz, and my father is part Kazakh, part Kyrgyz. The Kyrgyz look at the father’s line. Going just by my father’s line, I’m Kazakh. My great-great grandfathers lives in Kazakhstan. But there was a famine there at one time, and they moved to Kyrgyzstan, and my father was born here. My grandfather say, “My son was born in Kyrgyzstan, is going to live in Kyrgyzstan, he doesn’t know Kazakh, but he knows Kyrgyz.” So when they filled out the documents, they wrote Kyrgyz. So according to the government documents, my father is Kyrgyz, so I am too. But if you don’t look at the documents, I’m a Kazakh. But I still consider myself Kyrgyz. Just like in America—and American of Kyrgyz origin, right? Even though I am of mixed lineage, I was born in Kyrgyzstan, I live here, study here. So I consider myself a Kyrgyz.

She said she never got interested in her Kazakh history. Only in Kyrgyz history. I asked her why.

I don’t know. I know that my great-grandfather was a Kazakh. Besides that, I don’t even know the history of Kazakhstan. I never read it. Kyrgyzstanis closer to me, native. I don’t know. My homeland is Kyrgyzstan. Kazakhstan was just the homeland of my ancestors.

In Their Own Words: Corruption

You can't read about Kyrgyzstan without hearing about corruption. Everyone talks about it. I interviewed an official in one of Kyrgyzstan's many political parties and asked him about it. If his ideas sound a little disjointed, that's because they were.

For a good life…regular people just need to have conditions were they can work, and reasonable distribution of wealth. Everything they earn…and then, as everyone says right now, we’re fighting corruption. So getting rid of corruption and creating normal working conditions. If you look at the history of the Kyrgyz, we are divided into clans. There are larger clans and then…it’s in our blood. For example, I become a director, I pull in my brothers, relatives, my clan. It’s in our blood. I don’t know sometimes it...trying to stop it doesn't seem to work, so...

Researcher: If you were put into such a position, would you do that? Put your own people in places of power?

Informant: I probably wouldn’t be able to. There’s a new generation—the goal of our party is to attract the youth. We have a goal to get the youth into this work. Right now everyone in the government, in high positions, they’ve been there for 15-20 years. The people who were working during Akayev’s administration [Akayev was the former president, ousted in 2005] are still working for Bakiev [the new president]. The youth have a very different view. But we [the older generation] have it in our blood.

Researcher: You’re used to it.

Informant: Yes, we’re used to it. If only the youth can fix that.

Researcher: Why do you think the youth have a different opinion, different views?

Informant: First of all young people…there’s so much progress..the have command of such a wealth of information, not like us. We were raised in a very narrow environment. Nowadays even from a young age they know so much. Also, and this is just my opinion, they just aren’t as interested in their relatives. That’s all.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

In their Own Words: Islam, Individual Needs, and Getting Past the Standard Answers

This is from an interview with a devout Muslim householder in Talas. He said that Mulsims are obligated to help the less fortunate. I asked him if he would not help the less fortunate if he were not Muslim.

If I weren’t a Muslim, only God knows, maybe a little just, as people do, just to be able to brag, I would do it. Just because I would want other people to see it. We don’t have that kind of attitude. Just the opposite, we want God to see it and God to be pleased. Out hope is to go to paradise. Every person is duty bound to do good deeds. We are all Muslims. God created everyone Muslims. Everyone should worship God. That last book…we argue a lot about religion now, say that this religion is good, or that one. No. All religions are good. Everything comes in it’s own time. There was the Torah during the time of Moses, and during the time of Isaiah, and Jesus. Now the last book is the Qur’an. God sent it to earth. Now we should all obey it. The last prophet is Muhammad. There isn’t a practice of saying, that’s an American, that’s an African, that’s a Russian or a Kyrgyz. Because we should all obey the surahs [chapters in the Qur’an] of the prophet, obey God, should obey the Qur’an, that God sent. Therefore, we’re all Muslims. We should all pray. Our dream is that God would give holiness to America, to the whole world. We ask God that he would give everyone the chance to pray the way we do, so everyone would pray and ask God to help them keep from the wrong paths. God gave us the last book, sent it to us. And we have the word of God that if we will live according to the Qur’an, we will be happy. So whoever prays five times a day—prayer is our duty, that’s what the prophet taught—will go to heaven. If you keep Orozo [a fast during the holy month of Ramadan], live according to the Qur’an, pray five times a day,
don’t miss, then paradise is prepared for you. If you don’t do that, is says that God will not make any promises with you. We are all duty bound. Before God there are no differences—American, Russian, things like that—he doesn’t differentiate. Before God we all need to accept that. What God has commanded, that we must do. Pray five times a day, keep Orozo one month a year.
This is a standard kind of answer that you get when you ask people about Islam. I’ve taught classes on Islam and have studied the history of the religion fairly in-depth. It doesn’t matter if I tell people this. They will usually give the above information anyway. I asked this many why he personally believed these things.

It’s now…this isn’t just a plain book. It’s a holy book. Allah sent it to the Arabs. If he had wanted he could have sent it to the Kyrgyz, the Russians. But by the will of God this book was sent to the Arabs. It was according to the desires of the last prophet. Isaiah the prophet said that a final prophet would come. But no one knew who the last prophet would be. It was all according to the will of God. He said that the last prophet would come, but he did not say who, where, and when he would
come.
Again, standard answer (and not really answering my question). This seems to be very common. He wasn’t being evasive—as far as I could tell, he really felt he was answering my question. I asked him to tell me about the first time he prayed.

The first time, I don’t know. I don’t remember it well, but I seem to remember God gave me a sign. I prayed that God would free me from my bad deeds. I drank vodka at the time. I participated in unholy actions. I prayed that god would save me from those things. There was guy who rode nearby on a bicycle. He suggested that I start to pray. I said that if God granted it, I would start to pray later. But somehow his advice stuck with me. Later I went to him and started to go with him to pray and I started to read. I used to drink, I fought, I sometimes said bad things to others. But then the next day I suddenly had this great fear. I prayed to God to help me stop drinking. I didn’t pray to Allah. I just prayed to Kudai [one of the traditional Kyrgyz words for God]. I prayed that he would help me stop the bad things I was doing.
Better answer. It gave me some insight into what was going on in his life at the time that he decided to take Islam more seriously. I asked him if it was difficult to learn how to pray (the five set prayers that Muslims are supposed to pray have specific wording. They aren’t just plain talking to God—that’s a different kind of prayer).

No. At that time, there weren’t any books that you could use to learn to pray. There are a lot of them now. At that time, books about Shari’a [Islamic law, based on the Qur’an and the words and actions of the prophet Muhammad], about how to pray—there weren’t any. At that time, I went to that guy’s home for about a month—to the Mullah [someone who has studied and knows more about the Qur’an than your average person]. I went at night. He said, “Come at night, come in the morning.” I went to his house early, before sunrise, to pray. We didn’t have mosques then.
I asked him how his life had changed since he started doing these things.

It’s hard for a person to just live a plain life. I used to always think about my plans, wonder what I was going to do tomorrow, how to find things. I always had those kinds of questions—how I am going to live, how can I get more money, how can I feed my children. Flour just got more expensive, and people are fearing about their lives. But we rely on God. God won’t forget us. Whatever we need, we ask God for it in prayer. We don’t have fear. If we fear, we rely on God and the fear goes away. I feel like there is someone who helps me. I don’t ask help of anyone else.

In Their Words: Kyrgyzstanis

The word ‘Kyrgyzstanets” (in English: Kyrgyzstani) describes a person who is a citizen of Kyrgyzstan. Hardly anyone uses the word here. I met a man in Talas who was an exception.

Researcher: A lot of people talk about ethnic divisions in the country—that there are Kyrgyz, Uzbeks, Russians, and other groups in this country, and that there a problems that arise form trying to fit so many groups into one country. Do you think that is so?

Informant: I haven’t really seen that problem here. There are all kinds of people
here. Lots of different neighbors—Uzbeks, Russians, Germans. A lot of them have emigrated. But some have stayed all the same. They live their own lives, do their own work. When you interact with them, it’s nice. Each nation has it’s own mores. You see those and take the good ones for yourself. That’s how we’ve lived in Talas, and it was good. We had Uzbeks living here, Germans. Ukrainians too. A lot of Russians. I think it’s good when a lot of different ethnic groups live in one country. There’s a lot of benefit in that. Every nationality has it’s good points, it’s good sides. When you live among only one nationality, you don’t notice that. There have probably been incidents, you can’t answer for everyone. But personally I’ve never…I support the idea of having lots of ethnicities here.

Researcher: So it’s more important to you personally that you consider yourself a citizen of this country, than the fact that you consider yourself a Kyrgyz?

Informant: Yes. Let them also live as Kyrgrzstanis. We’re living in the 21st century. There’s just one land. Whether you’re a Kyrgrz or an Uzbek, you’re a person. Live. The land can feed everyone so far.

Researcher: Maybe you can help me understand this. I’ve talked with a lot of people here, and you are the first person to use the term Kyrgyzstani. That’s a
person who lives in Kygyzstan. A lot of people don’t understand that. They say citizen of Kyrgyzstan, but they don’t know what a Kyrgyzstani is. Why is it, that so many people who thin that being a Kyrgyzstani isn’t important, but you do?

Informant: Let them keep their languages and their traditions. But if they live in Kyrgyzstan they should consider themselves Kyrgyzstanis. And if they openly say “We were born in Kyrgyzstan”--there are Uzbeks, for example, that were born here. They don’t have any understanding of Uzbekistan—they live here and should worry about Kyrgyzstan. There are still those divisions, but the divisions shouldn’t be. Different ethnicities should be Kyrgyzstanis and should live and prosper.

In Their Words: Russians in Kyrgyzstan

Going along with the last post, I thought I’d write a little about the Russian minority in Kyrgyzstan. Russians used to make a large percentage of the population here. As of a few years ago, they made up only about 12%, and that number seems to be dropping. I spoke with a young woman, a ethnically Russian student who grew up in Kyrgyzstan. She repeated what I have heard from a lot of people here—Russians in Kyrgyzstan share more important similarities with the Kyrgyz in Kyrgyzstan than they do with the Russians in Russia.

Researcher: Do you get any benefit from the fact that you are a citizen of this country?

Informant: I like living here. I love my country. So I get benefits in the sense that I like living here, but other benefits…I don’t know.

Researcher: Why do you love your country?

Informant: Because I was born here. My friends are here. This is my home.

Researcher: Did you ever live anywhere else?

Informant: No, I traveled, but I didn’t live anywhere for a long time.

Researcher: Have you been to Russia?

Informant: I’ve been to Russia. That’s a separate country, also difficult. It’s easier to get along with people here. I was born and raised here so I know people’s interests, mentality better here than in Russia. Russia is a different country and the people are different. Russians who grew up here are totally different.

Researcher: That’s interesting. In what way are they different?

Informant: They’re different in every way. In their understanding, their way of life, their principles.

Researcher: Can you give me an example?

Informant: For example, our people are more open. I can talk about pretty much anything even with people in the university here with whom I’m pretty unfamiliar. There you don’t do that—it’s just you by yourself. And your neighbors there in Russia, if you are from Kyrgyzstan and then you start to earn well, earn more than them, then right away they start punching holes in your tires, things like that. They figure that if you’re from Kyrgyzstan, you’re nobody. That’s how they treat you. I have a friend who lives there. We went to school together. She moved to Russia and has been living there for seven years. She doesn’t tell people that she’s from Kyrgyzstan, because she knows that if she tells people, they’re going to treat her poorly. Now if she tells people she is from Kyrgyzstan, they tell her they figured she was just from a different part of Russia. Basically, if you don’t tell, they can’t tell.

Researcher: What if people come here from other countries? Will people treat them
similarly?

Informant: People here treat newcomers well. Tourists, students. I, at least, treat them well. My parents treat them well too. But that also depends on the person.

Changing My Ideas a Bit

I originally came to Kyrgyzstan with an idea about how people became interested in their country. I figured, not everyone cares about their country on an everyday basis, but everyone cares about some basic things—food, shelter, safety, family—on an everyday basis. Therefore, if people come to see their country as necessary for them to fulfill their everyday needs, then they will become interested in their country.

I also figured that there was a middle-man, in the form of groups. “Groups” is a bad term, because it doesn’t really explain what I am looking at. I spent an hour last night coming up with an alternative name, and I’m afraid it’s even more ambiguous than the term it replaces. Voluntary indirect meaning-based associations. How’s that for academic babble? Let me explain what I mean by it. Take religion, for example. No one forces you to care about your religion. If you care about it, then you get involved it. If you don’t care about it, you don’t get involved in it. It’s voluntary. The interesting thing about religion, though, is that it is an association where you don’t ever meet or know most of the other people who belong to it. On a sports team, a community organization, or even a school, you tend to know who belongs to it and who doesn’t. In a religion, you only know a few of the people who belong to it. So you association with the membership of your association is indirect—you know that other people belong to it, but those people aren’t the reason for your belonging. The reason for your belonging is the personal meaning you attach to your membership. You feel that your religion is an important part of who you are, therefore you belong to it.

If you don’t mind, I’ll just use “groups” instead. Just keep in mind what I mean when I use it. Religion, ethnicity, class, gender—these are all the kinds of groups that I just described. I figured that these would be a little closer to people’s everyday lives than their country, so I envisioned a step-by-step process: if people see their everyday needs as tied up in the well-being of one of these groups, then the group will become important to them. If they see their government as affecting the well being of a group that is important to them, then their country will become important.

Yeah. I think I was pretty much wrong about that.

The fact is, the grand majority of the people here know incredibly little about any of the groups I’ve mentioned. Being a certain ethnicity, gender, religion, class, or anything else is something that everyone is aware of, but very few people actually think about it. It’s just what they do. That doesn’t mean these things don’t affect them. For example, a lot of Muslim women are not able to do many of the things the Muslim men do. They often aren’t allowed in a mosque unless the mosque is big enough to accommodate a women’s section. There are some behavior restrictions on women that don’t apply to men. Most women I have talked to know about these rules, but, even if Islam is very important to them personally, they don’t really think much about them. It’s just what they do.

The only people I have found who have thought about these kinds of groups are people who have had to learn about them quickly—new converts, apostates, students—or people who have had to learn about them for goals not directly associated with their personal lives—clergy, teachers, NGO workers. It seems that the main factor that determines whether your religion, ethnicity, country, or anything else becomes important to you is whether or not you have had to learn how to talk about those things as part of belonging to an organization. Belonging to the group isn’t enough. You have to belong to an organized effort to understand or advance the interests of the group. I used to see that kind of organizational effort as an effect of group belonging. I’m not starting to think of it as a cause.

I’m still working on these ideas, but I just conducted two interviews yesterday that completely conformed to the new predictions I just mentioned. That’s not evidence, but it is encouragement. What I am seeing in this country and the things people are saying here make a lot more sense in light of this new perspective.

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

Aitysh--Kyrgyz County Fair

I just got back from Issyk Kol. They held Aitysh in Barskon, which is a small town on the southern edge of the lake.

Aitysh is seriously one of the coolest things I’ve done in Kyrgyzstan, at least as far as the arts are concerned. I’ve posted numerous videos in the videos section of the site. The first two show some examples of Kyrgyz sports, which usually involve horses. The last ones show some artistic performances.

The word Aitysh itself, if I’m not mistaken, comes from the very ait, which means “to speak.” Basically, it is a contest between two people. Each person needs to insult the other as much as possible. But there are a few rules to the insults:

  1. You have to be polite. In other words, your insult can’t sound like an insult.
  2. You have to do it in verse.
  3. You have to do it to music.
  4. You have to improvise the whole thing as you go along.

Seriously impressive. The younger performers tended to get more laughs and applause. The older performers tended to have a richer language—they were more nuanced in the way they went about the competition.

I also have posted a video of a Manaschy performing part of the Manas epic. The one I recorded was pretty good, but the one who performed after him was incredible. I unfortunately couldn’t get a video of that one—he recited non-stop for 22 minutes. By the end, had sweat streaming down his face. When you watch the video, you’ll get a feel for the pace of a recitation. Twenty-two minutes is quite a feat.

In Their Words: Islamists and Fundamentalists

Americans often hear the word “Islamist” or “Fundamentalist” and get scared. Certainly, there is a reason to be scared of some people who take those titles, but most Americans have a very fuzzy view of what those titles mean. I have asked people in America what it means for someone to be an “Islamic Fundamentalist,” and usually get an answer that basically says, “They want an Islamic world government.” As if that really said anything.

I interviewed a 22-year-old man in Talas who would definitely fit into the Islamist/Fundamentalist category. He became extremely religious about two years ago. He is now a regular everyday at the mosque. In out discussion, I asked him about the relationship between his religious and his government. I found it enlightening. I’ve included the transcript of that part of our conversation.

You will probably notice that this individual has a limited understanding of things like policy, law, and social inequalities. He’s 22. I think we can forgive him for being a bit naïve. It’s his point of view that I found important.

Researcher: What kind of country should this country be?

Informant: Basically, Kyrgyzstan should be Islamic.

Researcher: What does it mean that a country should be Islamic?

Informant: It’s better when a country is Islamic. It should be like Arabia. Not the way of life…

Researcher: The government.

Informant: Yes.

Researcher: How can you do that?

Informant: First of all, government officials need to be conscientious, living according to Shari’a [Islamic law—comprised of the Q’uran, additional commentary and instruction by the prophet Muhammad, as well as later commentary by religious scholars].

Researcher: If they did that, does that mean they have to have laws that correspond to Shari’a as well?

Informant: Shari’a…I can’t say. I mean, even the Arabs don’t live entirely according to the Q’uran.

Researcher: But they need to try as much as they can to make the laws Shari'a? If that happened, what would happen to the people who didn’t want to accept Islam?

Informant: They’d eventually accept it too.

Researcher: What if they didn’t accept it. I mean, say…

Informant: If the government is good, then the few who don’t accept the religion, those are the poor. In the city they get them to accept another religion by paying them money [this is unfortunately often true—many evangelical Christian denominations have been known to build people new houses if they convert]. Therefore, the people who convert to other religions are basically the poor. If the government is good, they won’t need to accept another religion for money.

Researcher: What if they wanted to accept Christianity or Buddhism, or some other religion. What would happen to them? If this country was Islamic, would there be a place for people who wanted to accept another religion?

Informant: Well, every person has to decide for himself.

Researcher: That means that if a person didn’t want to, he could not be a Muslim, even if the laws were all Shari’a?

Informant: Allah doesn’t force people into religion. He gave people freedom: live your religion, follow the path of Muhhammad and you will go to heaven. There’s no compulsion. If the government is rich, then each person will be rich and understand the religion, follow God, and will know what the other religions are and will not convert to them.

Researcher: And if people don’t live well?

Informant: That’s the situation we’re in now.

Researcher: But if they made the laws all Shari’a, everyone would live well?

Informant: I’m not thinking about the laws. Each person…

Researcher: If each individual person lived according to Shari’a, life would become better?

Informant: Better, yes.

Thursday, November 1, 2007

In Their Words: "Folk" Islam

A lot of religious scholars like to talk about so-called “folk Islam.” Folk Islam is basically a term for people saying they are Muslims but doing a lot of things that aren’t in the Q’uran. I don’t really like the term, because it makes it sound like it is the exception. If you look at all of the Muslims in the world, folk Islam is the rule, not the exception. Actually, that’s true of pretty much any religion. The holy books give a justification for the existence of the religion, but a huge amount of religious practices—and an even larger amount of individual’s religious ideas—come from other sources. I know of no religion that doesn’t follow this pattern. The following quote is from the Dungan woman from Talas (see previous post). I asked her if she studied her religion.
No, I don’t study it. I mean, in my youth, maybe I didn’t recognize it, but I just now see that in my youth my grandmother read the Q’uran and taught us, when we were little. And my grandmother’s brother…he lived across from us and was a very important Mullah. They called him a great wise man. He healed people. They came from all over with all kinds of illnesses, came to his house. He healed a lot of people…they came…he killed a chicken and used the blood to [find out what was wrong]…but now there’s a lot of people like that. At that time he was…he died last year though…but at that time all of Kyrgyzstan, he was adored all over Kyrgyzstan. They even took him to Kazakhstan to heal children. There were always people at his place. He never took money for his services. Not once did he ever take money. But now everyone does it for money. He did it just because that’s what he did. He lived very
well. Very well. I don’t know how. I can’t even describe how he lived. He lived well and healed people…he was a very handsome person—even in his old age he was still handsome. We could explain everything so well, he spoke very well. He was always with us…always teaching us the Q’uran, prayers, Orozo, Ait. “You need to do this with your hands. You need to make this kind of food. You don’t have to do that…” Now everyone buys everything. I still have that habit from those times. They always came to him…they were always there, and imagine, he never once healed people for money. He just stayed home and helped people. He didn’t work. But he always had money. I’m amazed at that, that, first of all, he had that gift from God, and second, that he had that money...God probably helped him. Small children with tooth-aches, and he’d write something in Arabic on them and their teeth would stop hurting. It was amazing.

In Their Words: Converting from Islam

This is an excerpt from an interview with a Dungan woman in Talas. Dungans are a group with historical roots in what is now western China. They are traditionally Muslim, and this woman is no exception. I asked her what she thought about people who converted from Islam to another religion.

I don’t know. I can’t judge them of course. I can only speak concerning myself, that I wouldn’t—not for anything—be able to change my religion. I understand that all religions have to try to convert people, but you have to love your own. I think that way personally and so does my family. I mean, I’m a Dungan…I don’t emphasize that I’m a Dungan, but my people…they’ve been believers since olden times. We don’t have any of those…well…one married a Russian and her parents almost killed her. Now she lives…they’ve given up on her entirely. Her parents recently passed
away. She lives with her husband.

Notice this didn’t really answer the question. Marrying a Russian was enough to mean leaving the faith. Actually, before this point in the interview, she had said that the real issue was the faith of the parents. Even if the boy didn’t consider himself Muslim, if his parent’s were Muslim the brides parents might agree to the marriage. I asked if that woman still considered herself a Muslim, or if she had left the religion.
She left. Even in the village where she grew up, where her parents were, she understood that they would never accept her, even if they are her parents. She didn’t even come to her parent’s funeral. At the same time…they wouldn’t have allowed her to come if she had traveled to the funeral. They would have figured she was a Christian and just not allowed her to come to the funeral. As I understand it, she’s already entirely gone over to the Russian faith; she goes to church with her
husband. I don’t condemn her, but the fact that she already goes somewhere else, worships somewhere else...that mean’s she’s accepted a different religion. She
holds to that. I found out that all her children are baptized in that church. Her husband, as I understand it, even though he’s Russian isn’t really religious.

This is the first part of a series of posts on conversion. I’m currently translating an interview with a Russian girl who converted to Islam. I’ll put that up hopefully by next week.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Audio samples

At last! I have some stuff up in the audio section of the site. I've put up a few samples of Kyrgyz folk music (both vocal and instrumental), as well as a couple contemporary Kyrgyz pop songs. I've also put up a recoding of a Manschi reciting part of the Manas Epic. And I put up some Russian classic rock, just for fun. Enjoy.

In Their Words: Islam and Extremists

Same woman as the last two posts. I asked her if she ever felt that she experienced any inconveniences or hardships because of her religion.

No. Not really. Maybe if I lived in another country somewhere, I would feel that way. Here, be basically have Islam. I haven’t felt it. But I’m amazed that…and, of course, maybe I just don’t understand it…but in Islam…in Christianity, there are probably a lot of different denominations…in Islam there are also a lot of divisions. And it upsets me that… I consider myself a peaceful Islamist. But there are certain movements…I can’t even remember what they’re called…extremists. Hizb-u Tahrir [a somewhat extreme multinational Islamist organization that was recently banned in Kyrgyzstan]. Here in Kyrgyzstan groups like that are even arrested. It turns out they distributed some pamphlets here in Talas, but we try not to take things like that. They encourage violence, hatred of other people, that’s not for me. We try not to read or even take things like that. Our religion, Islam, I feel, should…the Q’uran only talks about peace. Everything has peaceful intentions. But to hate a person…extremist movements like that…I just can’t approve of that.
I asked her why extremists do what they do.

I don’t know why. Maybe they force them to do it. And there’s…maybe there’s a foundation for that hatred. Or maybe they buy them off with money, I don’t know how. They even say that…those that attacked your twin towers…that they loaded them up on drugs, those suicide attackers. Those a just junkies, I feel. A fully conscious person wouldn’t go do something like that. How could you? You’ve been given life. You need to…I don’t know. I don’t understand it.

In Their Words: What the Future Holds

This is from the same woman as in the previous post. I asked her what she thinks her life—and her country—will be like in ten years.

I don’t know. For some reason, during Soviet times, I somehow had faith in tomorrow. It was somehow reliable: tomorrow would be just the same as today. I don’t have faith in tomorrow anymore. What’s going to happen tomorrow? What if prices jump? Do I need an education or don’t I? A lot of people don’t even want an education now. They just want to make money as quickly as they can. Even in our educational system, there are professors who give good grades for a price. What kind of professionals are going to come out of that? Who’s going to be our doctors? Sure, with teachers and some other professions you can at least give them some on-the-job training, but doctors…how can you hire those who got their degrees for money? How can you put a person like that at an operating table? I think that if our education system doesn’t change, as far as the future goes, I can’t even imagine. And then the economy, if our president and legislators can’t figure it out, then that’s also…I just don’t really have faith in tomorrow. I’ll probably just keep teaching. I still have ten years until retirement, and I have four kids. If I’m still living and healthy I’ll probably just keep teaching. The kids will finish school and I kind of hope, somewhere in the bottom of my heart, that they’ll emigrate and work somewhere else. It’s just not possible to make a good living here. But everyone wants to live well. To stand on their own two feet. I just don’t think it’s possible here. I hope [my son]
emigrates somewhere and finds work. My [oldest] daughter…I’d like her to be able to find a good marriage, for her to also live well, and work. I can’t think about ten years from now. I don’t even know what’s going to happen tomorrow. That’s the times we live in.

In Their Words: What Life is Like

I guess the title is a little misleading. This post is actually about how one person lives. I’ve been translating my interviews from Talas and thought it would be good to let some of these people speak for themselves. Whenever I post quotes from interviews, I’ll have “In Their Words:” in the title of the post.

This post is from a school teacher. She lives in Talas with her family. The following quote is in response to my question about where she thinks she fits in with the rest of the country, economically speaking. She said she was middle class and I asked her what that meant.

Well that means…hm…how do I say this…we’re a typical Kyrgyz family. We don’t live really richly, we don’t make a lot of money. Middle class, I figure, is when your pay isn’t that good. You use what you earn to eat. From month to month we have shortages. It’s good that my husband is a driver. It’s all backwards—I studied for five years and my husband, who has no specialty and no education, makes more money than I do. So I number myself among the middle class. That means I have a
roof over my head; it means I have kind of constant situation. It means I can dress ok, more or less. Not really extravagant, but…you know…just in general. Middle class is when your children can get an education. For example, children in really poor families can’t get an education. Just as soon as they finish [public] school, they go straight to work. They can’t allow themselves a higher education. Those of us who are in the middle class—it’s hard—but we can give our children an education. That’s
the basics of it. Does that make sense?
I then asked what it takes to maintain a minimum standard of living.

A minimum standard? That’s…well, I think, to maintain a minimum standard of living, the government needs to stabilize the situation somehow. For example, her in Kyrgyzstan—now I consider myself a patriot—but just the same, I think that here in Talas people are very hard workers. They plant their own gardens, in the higher regions they plant potatoes. They can feed themselves. But if the government set some kind of goal to…well this is how it turn out for us: foreign companies come and buy the beans, the potatoes, the grain, and right away middlemen appear. And they pay the farmer who grew the crops very little. But that middleman, who didn’t do
any work, he profits from it. It would be nice if the government paid more attention then…well…but people need to also worry about themselves, not just sit around. I feel like everyone needs to do his own job. If you have land, you shouldn’t let it go unplanted. You need to grow something on it. Our family doesn’t have land. We live in the city so we just don’t have any land. But we have a little yard here, and we don’t even let that go to waste. We plant some things for ourselves. I don’t buy at
the bazaar. We have apples—I try to make juice. We grow tomatoes—I do that myself. To maintain a minimum standard of living, I think you probably just need to work. Still, it would be nice if the government helped…

Saturday, October 20, 2007

Manas: Kyrgyz National Legend

Manas was a Kyrgyz warrior who supposedly lived about 1000 years ago. Everyone here knows who Manas is: they make movies about him, there are statues all of the place, Manas street is one of the larger streets in Bishkek, people dressed up as Kyrgyz warriors sell soft drinks in advertisements. Stuff like that.

Talas is the supposed home of Manas. Manas Ordo is a large complex that houses a museum, statue garden, and the mausoleum where Manas was thought to be buried. There are debates as to whether he could have actually been buried there. The inscription says that some Khan’s daughter is buried there. However, when they opened up the tomb, they found the skeleton of a large man--over six fee tall. It was common practice to bury great warriors in secret. Otherwise, their enemies would come a desecrate the graves. Therefore, it’s possible that the Khan’s-daughter story was a ruse to disguise Manas’s true burial place.

People still come to Manas Ordo on a regular basis. It’s considered a holy site, and people will often pray at the tomb. Shamans will hold ceremonies there as well. There is a fine line between shamanism and Islam in Kyrgyzstan. Actually, there isn’t any line at all and it’s not only in Kyrgyzstan. Worshipping at saints’ graves and believing in special powers that derive from sacred sites is one of the most wide-spread beliefs among Muslims all over the world, even though it’s not mentioned in the Q’uran and is generally frowned upon my the Muslim intelligentsia.

I’ve included a few pictures in the photos section of the blog.

Just-Because Answers

I’ve been listening to my interviews and trying to figure out what I am seeing here. I’ll warn you right now that this post is a work in progress. I don’t promise that it will make sense.

“Just because” is one of the most common and most frustrating answers a research can receive. “Why do you belong to your religion?” “Umm…well, because it’s my religion.” “But why is it your religion?” “Because it’s true.” “But how do you know it’s true?” “Because the prophet said so.” “But why do you believe that?” Blank stare. “I just do.”

Just because.

I used to hate that answer. After my trip to Talas, I don’t hate it anymore. I think the reason I used to hate it (and the reason most researchers don’t think it is a real answer) is because, as a researcher, I like to think that life is a bit more complicated than that. I like to think that things have reasons for happening, and that people are not just doing random things for no discernable reason. Just because answers make it look like people are just doing things because…well, just because they are. It’s a question begging to be answered.

There are basically three ways social scientists respond to just-because answers. The first way is what I’ll call the psychological tradition: people do things because of deep-seated, largely unconscious mental processes that affect their behavior. When you say you do something just because, it’s actually because something inside your brain is telling you to do that. You don’t have to know about that that thing in order for it to affect you--as long as it can affect your brain, your brain can affect you and you will do that behavior.

The second way is the sociological tradition: you do things because there are social institutions and processes that coerce you into doing what you do. When you say you do something just because, it is actually because people of your gender are socialized to do that thing or because there are institutions that create power relationships that make you feel like you have to do that thing. You don’t have to know about these things either. They can affect you without you being aware of them.

The third way is the ecological tradition. There are resources in the world around you, and these resources are often instinctually motivating, mostly because they were resources that were important throughout human evolutionary history. You do things to get these resources, even when you don’t know you are doing them to get those resources. Your body knows that it wants certain things and if it needs to trick you into thinking that you are in control in order for it to get them, then so be it.

Now, all of these things are true to a certain extent. The ecological tradition has the largest amount of evidence in it’s favor, but the sociological and psychological traditions have a respectable amount of proof on their sides as well. Each of these three things can cause human behavior, including just-because behavior. I’m just starting to think that there is a fourth reason as well.

I generally like to think that people (myself included) are pretty smart. Yes, we can be simple at times, but still smart. All three of the traditions I’ve outlined state that we do things because there is stuff in the world that makes us do things without us knowing it. There aren’t too many social researchers (anymore) who say that we’re total puppets, but a large amount of coercion is generally assumed. While coercion is a fact of life, I just like to think we are a little bit smarter than these theories give us credit for.

What if just-because answers are accurate, at least some of the time? What if people do things for simple reasons because they live in a social setting that allows simple reasons to be successful? What if you go to mosque just because you’re supposed to because you live in a town where almost everyone else is Muslim, where most of your good friends go to Mosque with you, where you feel included and welcomed when you live your religion, and where you feel a little more sure about your standing before God? In that kind of a setting, why do you need a better reason than just because? It feels good to live your religion, would probably feel a little bad not to live it, and it doesn’t get in the way of the other things you do.

I think researchers like those three traditional explanations because it makes sense that simple things happen because of more deep-seated, more complicated things. But I think we make a mistake by trying to find one-to-one connections between cause and effect. In order for a just-because explanation to work, you need a few things from the psychological tradition (ability to recognize aspects of your religion), the sociological tradition (institutionalized values and practices that show that you are a part of your religion) and the ecological tradition (resources like social standing acceptance that come from being a part of the religion). But no one of these traditions provides a satisfying explanation of the behavior.

And it won’t do to say that they all just interact to produce the behavior. That’s like saying that a car runs because the gas, the engine, and the driver interact to make it run. While on one level that’s true, it doesn’t really fully explain how a car runs. It’s a cop out. People ideas, social institutions, and resources interact in a way that explains just-because behavior. The complexity that explains the behavior isn’t in any one of the three explanatory factors--it’s in how the three factors interact. If we can figure out exactly how those things interact, we could potentially have a powerful way of understand what people do and why they do it.

Everyday Islam

Most of the statistics concerning Kyrgyzstan estimate that about 75% of the population is Muslim.

That doesn’t mean a whole lot.

It’s not that I think the figures are wrong. I’m sure if you asked everyone in Kyrgyzstan what religion he or she was, about 3 out of 4 people would say they are Muslims. It’s just that the term itself can me so many different things. Saying that a person is a Muslim (or a Christian, or a Buddhist, or any other ideology) is like saying he likes to read books. Technically, that tells you something about the person that you didn’t know before. But what kind of books does he like to read? How often does he read them? Does he really pay attention when he reads them? You don’t know. Same with religion. The fact that someone claims a specific religious affiliation doesn’t mean much at all.

Take the family in Chong Jer, for example. The father in the family is probably in his sixties. Why whole time there, he tried to convince me of a few things. One of the things he tried to convince me of was that I ought to become a Muslim so I could have seven wives. (I told him Islam only allows four wives, but he said I could have seven because the Prophet has seven). Another thing he tried to convince me of was that I should learn to drink alcohol, especially vodka. Now, many Muslims, including the devout householder and the mosque student in Talas, would say that that was a rather un-Muslim thing to do. The stricter versions of Islam forbid alcohol. Nevertheless, many Muslims in Kyrgyzstan (and throughout the world) drink alcohol. They don’t see that as an important part of their religion. Other Muslims see it as very much a part of their religion.

The thing about Islam is that it has no centralization or standardization. The center of authority is the local mosque. Each mosque, is run by a mullah (in Kyrgyz, the title is “moldo”) who teaches his congregation what it is to be a Muslim. He doesn’t answer to anyone for his teachings, and there is generally no oversight from any kind of organization. In fact, many of the people I have talked to so far did not even learn how to be Muslims from a moldo. They bought a few books (there are tons and tons of books on Islam here) and learned from them. Islam, organizationally, is a lot like American congregationalism. The local congregations makes the decisions. There is no pope or archbishop of anyone else who has the authority to standardize teachings.

I can see that lack of centralizations all around here. While people talk about their religion in global terms (“it’s the one true religion,” “all Muslims are brothers and sisters, no matter what their nationality”), they live it locally. Being a Muslim means doing the things that Muslims do on an everyday basis: reading the Q’uran, praying five times a day (preferably in the mosque if you are male), abstaining from certain foods. If they ever act based on an ideology, it is on an ideology that they assume other Muslims share, not an ideology that is actually uniformly taught.